Mamma Mia! has to be the BEST West End Musical I've ever seen. The show was very enjoyable, it was very hard to not sing or start dancing out of your seat to the catchy songs which were sang top quality by the brilliant cast; towards the end of the show everyone was out of their seats dancing and singing! Great atmosphere to the entire theatre. The cast were extremely talented in singing, dancing and of course acting; the way how the scene's changed with the set moving fascinated me- I was wondering how this was going to be done after seeing the movie. As much as I love the movie, the West End stage version of it is so much more fun! The theatre its self was a very nice place, the staff being very helpful, as they were when we rang up and booked our tickets. Advisable to book tickets in advance though, it near enough seems to get a full house whenever we have passed the theatre before. If you are planning to see a West End Musical and don't know which one to see, this is for sure the one!

Today was the second time I've been to Mamma Mia in London and it was the second time within a month. Before that, I was thinking that on stage it could not be as half as good as the movie. However I noted after my first visit, that it can be even better on stage. After that, I bought the CD with the original cast and I have to say that I understand some people when saying that the previous cast (before summer 2010) was not that good. Meanwhile ther have been some changes in the cast and the performance today was again overwhelming. The main attraction of the cast for me is Jessie May as Sophie. Besides the fact that she looks georgious, she has the voice of an angel. When she sings, it really touches me deep inside. She'll have a great future. Linzi Hateley as Donna is good, but the first time I've seen it, the part of Donna was sung by Sara Poyzer and I personally think that Sara gives much more life to the character, also with her voice. She is more the rock mother. Excellent performances of Catherine Russell as Rosie and especially Harriet Thorpe as Tanya. She is great. For those who have not been fans of Abba, it might be difficult to understand the hype but for the fans it's a big show when all the audience sings with the cast.

Mamma Mia! is an absolutely amazing show, full of wonderfully talented actors & actresses, of course headed by one if not the best female actresses in the West End - Linzi Hateley, a truely heart warming show.

If you want to be entertained in the West End you could not do better than buy a ticket to Mamma Mia. The production is absolutely first class, with a cast that gives their all.

Here is an ethical and moral thought experiment for all you budding Mamma Mia philosophers out there. Imagine that you have just seen an emergency news broadcast detailing the certain obliteration of Earth by an unstoppable asteroid in just two short hours. Now imagine also that due to the strict no mobile phone policy in the Prince of Wales theatre, everyone but the cast has received the ominous news. Do you tell the cast and give them a chance to say their prayers, or do you keep them blissfully ignorant of their impending doom? I vote for blissful ignorance, a noble lie (sin of omission if you will). I will explain the philosophical justification for my decision in the context of the very special February 29th, 2008 London performance.
Firstly, what good could possibly come from telling the cast of their fate? I know that they are very talented, but lets face it, like the difference between a genuine smile and a politicias grin, no actor or group of actors is good enough to fake their own enjoyment of this show so convincingly. Secondly, What are the chances that both the cast and audience will collectively ever experience greater joy, not escapism, but the pure joy that should be the inevitable residue of sharing such an extraordinary performance?
If politicians really wanted to ensure certain re-election, they would use Lottery funds to subsidize Mamma Mia to mesmerize the population into temporarily forgetting about all the crumbling infrastructure in this country, making it not just an entertaining night out but rather a national, and necessary, mental health treasure/break.
Still basking in the bittersweet afterglow of Lucy Harriss final performance as Donna, I actually forgave the Ministry Of Transport (MOT) for their utterly hopeless, myopic, third world-style road works, as I made the inevitable, poorly-marked, detour around the never-ending piecemeal construction on the M11-M25 junction.
Indeed, even the simple wiggling of Tanyas (Jane Gurnetts) foot (never the same way twice), on the bed where she fakes an ankle injury to avoid having to suck or blow an inflatable mattress, alone, would have made my detour more than worth it.
Hannah Robertson in my view, has a very unique talent that should, if there is any justice in show business, allow her to name her poison when selecting any role worthy of her gifts. The combination of her exquisite beauty, grace and musicality tempted me to assert that she has a Movie Star quality about her, but given the current state of affairs in Hollywood, I realize it could be taken, justifiably so, as an insult. Thus, I am now, officially, on the record, placing Hannah into my rarified Pantheon of Mamma Mia Irreplaceables.
I will miss Bill Austins (Paul Hawkyards) rapport with Sophie; he brings a great deal of quality and believability to his role.
Unlike the self-indulgent and pathologically narcissistic Hollywood pretty boys personified in Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise or Brad Pratt and Tom Loose ' as my son refers to them, Paul Shelford (Sky) much like Hannah (Sophie), projects a totally sincere, likable and believable character that must be, like Lucys and Hannahs characters, on some level, a partial extension of himself. He will be sorely missed, as I fear he too, will be enshrined in the Mamma Mia Pantheon. I certainly will not be holding my breath awaiting his worthy replacement.
The comic timing of Jane Gurnett (Tanya) and Joanna Monro (Rosie), during Chiquetita was a masterpiece of the most densely packed hilarity I have ever seen, and sadly fear, ever will see, again. It stands alone, like a kind-of banana bullfight Mona Lisa of comic genius, that will be debated for centuries to come, with no clear definitive theory ever emerging to fully explain it. It may just be that the best any of us can do is simply gaze in wonderment, and not even try to explain why or how it affects us so deeply.
Jane Gurnett Does Your Mother Know ' scene was so outrageously funny, I thought my wife was going to hyperventilate. May I suggest to the theatre that they change their fake ' warning about nervous dispositions and white LYCRA and replace it with a real medical warning about Jane and install fully functioning drop-down oxygen masks! A friend of ours, who came to the performance, said her eyes were so full of tears from laughing at Chiquetita, she missed half of Dancing Queen.
Staying with the Greek theme for a moment, I truly believe that Mamma Mia is fundamentally misunderstood. I submit that it is not the light-hearted romp that so many believe it to be, but rather a kind of modified Wagnerian Total Art ' (Gesamtkunstwerk) experience, incognito.
In my view, whether Judy Craymer realizes it or not, she has, in a way, bested Wagner, and in so doing, has converted one form of psychic energy (catharsis) into another, pure joy, by juxtaposing outrageous comedy with the joyful music of ABBA with the potential tragedy of Sophie (Hannah Robertson) marrying too young and then narrowly averting the potential disaster of her youthful impulsivity at the 11th hour. Mamma Mia goes well beyond mere entertainment, which is why, like the Greek classics, it will live forever in the hearts of those who are lucky enough to internalize its deeper meaning.
I normally dont like to reveal too much emotion in my reviews, but here I feel it is both necessary and instructive. Somewhat caught off guard by my own reaction, I kept telling myself, almost embarrassed, get a grip Tim, its just a show, and a comedy nonetheless of course, my wife blubbering next to me didn't help my best efforts at stoicism. So why did I feel as if I had been gutted during the curtain call? Why such a strong sense of loss?
Well, to put it bluntly, Lucy occupies her own unique category, and also still, in my view, partly because of her uniqueness, is not fully cognizant of the true depth of her powers. In some ways I suppose this is a good thing for the quality of her last performance, like the surgeon who is so focused on cutting, that he hasnt the time to speculate on the consequences of failure for the patients friends and family, but for me, it serves as very little consolation, and in fact, only seemed to deepen my sense of loss.
It is now my firm belief that even after all the glowing words I have written about Lucy, I didnt even scratch the surface of her abundant talent.
Now I know that you skeptics out there will say, Come on Winey! how many times can you eat crow? You are a bigger flip flopper than the infamous Senator John Kerry, who unceremoniously lost the last US Presidential election in a landslide. I can assure you that there is no crow on this menu. I have not forgotten my earlier reviews, but have had, what I can only call, an epiphany after discovering the deeper message of Mamma Mia, exemplified by the transition from catharsis to Joy, which Lucy (to my chagrin) instinctively discovered long ago, and in so doing, literally became Donna. The foundation of all great art is truth. And the truthof Donna cannot be arrived at through scholarship, only by instinct. I deeply regret not fully appreciating the full weight of Lucys instinctive discovery much earlier, but like so many things worth treasuring, we often discover, tragically, their true value only after they are nearly, or completely, gone.
To fully grasp the magnitude of my loss, the reader could combine everything I ever wrote about Lucy, multiply it by a thousand, raise that number to the power of 100, and then, like imagining an infinity of infinities, give up trying, and simply curse yourself until a real meteor does eventually strike you as just punishment for not having the good sense to fully appreciate her. Alternatively, you could reflect on my emotions during Lucys final curtain call. I felt as if it were the inevitable, end of an era, painfully and irretrievably, Slipping Through My Fingers. Lucy (Donna), Hanna (Sophie) and Jane (Tanya) clearly have gone far beyond the call of duty in their roles, and in so doing, have given me and my family many priceless memories that we will treasure always; in fact, had a real meteor actually struck me during Lucys final performance, I would most assuredly have died as happy as any man ever did.
God bless this cast, and in particular, Lucy Harris, for generously radiating so much joy to so many, in this all too weary world. They say that grief is the price of love, and so I doubt we will ever completely stop grieving over the loss of this one-off Donna. With our deepest, heartfelt gratitude.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Bravo, Bravo, Bravissimo LINZI HATELEY. Even when bravo is repeated for emphasis or used in its superlative form "Bravissimo," it seems a pathetically inadequate kudo to encapsulate the sheer weight of LINZI HATELEY's portrayal of Donna in Mamma Mia. Bravo! Admittedly denotes much enthusiasm and admiration, but simultaneously sheds far too little, if any, light on why I felt spontaneously compelled to shout it at LINZI HATELEY during her curtain call. I'm ashamed to admit that when I first saw LINZI HATELEY's publicity photo announcing her as the new Donna, I was actually angry. I thought to myself "come on Benny and Bjorn, say it aint so; don't tell me that you have also sold out to the Hollywood machine!" In my own defense, my suspicions were not totally unjustified given LINZI HATELEY's far too glamorous, and to my eye, youthful appearance combined with Hollywood's recent casting of the lead roles of none other than Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia the movie, to boot, yuck!

LINZI HATELEY has, like a catalyst in a chemical reaction, single-handedly transformed the role of Donna and in turn (much like a chain reaction), also transformed Mamma Mia, as a byproduct of the first reaction. Thermodynamics aside, the dramatic energy of Mamma Mia obeys entirely different laws when driven (catalyzed) by LINZI HATELEY as Donna. Make no mistake; I do not wish to convey the notion that the role of Donna has been somehow dramatically "improved" by LINZI HATELEY, unless of course you consider a Porsche Carrera a dramatically "improved" VW beetle. Yes a VW beetle is roundish in shape and has a rear-mounted engine, but for me, that's where the qualitative similarities part company.
I know the more skeptical of you out there are wondering how I could possibly write anything more glowing than my previous critiques of earlier Donnas, critiques that bordered on fanatical idolatry? The answer to that rhetorical question is below; just keep reading. I just need to dash to the kitchen for a moment to take the "crow" out of the oven. Don't pity me, I don't mind it too much; it's a small dietary sacrifice for the privilege of having a LINZI HATELEY "experience." In order to put LINZI HATELEY's characterization of Donna into perspective, one cannot really do it comparatively; one needs, instead to devise a new scale of measurement, appropriate to the size and weight of the object being measured. One does not measure the diameter of planets in millimeters because even though it's possible, it yields numbers that are too large and hence, unwieldy.
For those of you who follow classical music, especially in London, Sir Thomas Beecham needs no introduction. Arturo Toscanini said of Beecham, in what must have been the greatest backhanded musical compliment of all time, "Beecham is a genius, amateur."
If one heard nothing but good amateur orchestras, Beecham's performances would, no doubt, cause one to think one had died and gone to musical heaven. But then if one heard Toscanini after Beecham, one would be forced to conclude that what one thought was heaven, was really a musical purgatory. In other words, Beecham would quickly go from being a giant, to being the world's tallest midget. In my view, LINZI HATELEY is as different from the next best Donna, as the world's tallest giant next to the world's tallest midget.
LINZI HATELEY brought out subtleties in Mamma Mia that I am not convinced, even the creators, had the insight to "write" into the script; nor am I sure if it would even be possible, for the creators to have "written down" what she did. I am reminded of the sheer musical genius of Leonard Bernstein who imbued music with meaning in ways that no one else could, even the composers of said music! Igor Stravinsky once admitted that "Lenny" brought out things while conducting "The Right of Spring" that not even he (Stravinsky) knew were there! Similarly, LINZI HATELEY brought out aspects, both dramatic and musical, of Mamma Mia that I didn't think were even possible.
I know this will seem like a detour, but bear with me; I recently saw the Royal Operas televised performance of Wagner's complete Ring Cycle (approx. 15 hours). Despite being introduced by Michael Portillo in the most nauseatingly patronizing and arrogantly pseudo-intellectual way, as if to say "thank you all for giving up banger racing this weekend to give opera a chance," it was well worth it. The vocal, orchestral and most impressively, dramatic elements were woven into a seamless continuum of the highest artistic quality. It was deeply moving, and I'm not just saying that because of the occasional appearance of the Rein maidens topless! Just in case you were wondering, I have not yet gotten around to registering a complaint about the maidens with the Royal Opera!
In my view, LINZI HATELEY's task in Mamma Mia, was in some ways, more challenging than the role of Brunhilde or Sigfried in Wagner's Ring Cycle, what most consider to be the most monumental task in Opera. How can I make such an audacious claim? Well, here's how. Wagner was the composer, librettist and dramatist of the ring Cycle; in short, every word, every syllable, note, stage action, plot dynamic, was created by Wagner to interrelate in a complete artistic creation. Mamma Mia was created, as many critics point out, as a cute, but somewhat superficial excuse to sing ABBA music. LINZI HATELEY manages, with an uncanny depth of insight, to seamlessly convey the deeper and more universal archetypes hidden in this seemingly superficial story. With a kind of musical and dramatic alchemy, LINZI HATELEY transmutates the songs of ABBA (whose lyrics leave many gaps in terms of their ability to tell the whole story) into a coherent work of art (transfiguring the superficiality of contemporary "pop lead" into a timeless, and much more weighty, 24 karat "Rein-gold" to borrow from my friend Wagner). The genius of LINZI HATELEY is her ability to reconcile the slapstick with the sublime while somehow, miraculously convincing the audience that both are necessary.
In the first scene where Donna encounters Sam, her reaction is more of surprise than anger, which totally transforms the rest of the plot as it unfolds making the overall story much more believable. In her more shocked than angered reaction Donna gives the audience the distinct feeling she is replaying her entire past with Sam and somehow reliving the same feeling of false hope she felt when she thought he had abandoned her all those years ago. This simple tweaking of her reaction, set up the rest of the story in a far more authentic light and hence, renders the characters much more complex. This, in turn, elevates them from mere excuse props for singing ABBA tunes, into bona-fide characters who belong there, with or without ABBA. Because she isn't overly bitter, her hysterical, knee-buckling rendition of Mamma Mia is that much more reminiscent of a middle-aged woman suddenly transformed into a weak-kneed teenager in the presence of a cute boy. It also raises the deeper and more uncomfortable reality that no matter how grown up we seem to be, much of our personalities are shaped by these youthful indiscretions, which make Donna's reduction to a rubber-kneed teenager that much more poignant and funny at the same time. I'm struck with the oxymoronic overtones of the expression "youthful indiscretion" insofar as youthfulness, by virtue of the lack of experience characterizing it, is not as much "indiscrete" as it is an inevitable byproduct, often tragic, of youth. I think the laughter during that scene was a different kind of laughter, almost cathartic. It's as if every girl who was ever jilted in her youth, relives it through Donna's rubber-kneed descent into teenage irrationality. It also speaks to the broader notion that deep down, all most people really want is to be loved unconditionally, and that much of what passes for "grown-up" activities are really fatally doomed efforts to win the "unconditional" love and approval of others by virtue of the simple fact that with the act of "earning" love and respect, both cease to be unconditional and hence, loose their purity.
During Chiquitita and Dancing queen, one feels that Donna was genuinely cheered-up by Tanya and Rosie which provides much welcomed hope about the elasticity of the human spirit and the hope for a brighter tomorrow. The choreography of the three dynamos and the physical comedy they matched to the lyrics, defies words, even for me! I have seen several performances of Mamma Mia under other casts, and this was by far, the most meticulously crafted, expertly sung and acted thus far. I don't think I could take anything much funnier without pulling a muscle laughing. While previous Tanyas may have "looked" the part and acted it well enough in terms of Tanya as a two-dimensional archetypal gold-digger, this Tanya (Jane Gurnett) imbues the character with such expert vocals, physical comedy and relatability to Donna and Rosie, as to put her on Mt. Olympus with the other giants, separating her also, from earthly midgets.
The new Sophie (Hannah Robertson) was delightful. She projects just the right balance of innocence, likeability, believability (especially in her scenes with Sky [Paul Shelford]) and strong vocals. One really senses her genuine doubts about the wedding and her naivet in the opening number, where she conveys, through it, her desire to find herself through her paternity search. The new Sky perfectly complements Sophie; he is naturally very funny, boyishly handsome (but not in a vain or self conscious way) and believably heterosexual. Tanya was excellent in the scene with Pepper in "Does Your Mother Know." She milks every ounce out of that scene without over doing any one aspect of the character, all the while displaying what is clearly a highly trained and unflappable vocal facility.
LINZI HATELEY's rendition of "Slipping Through my Fingers" was absolutely magical. Forgive me Bjorn, but LINZI HATELEY is technically and interpretively an even better singer than Agnetha; I mean that sincerely. Her tonal range is like a simmering volcano, making everything she sings sizzle with an underlying passion. And like a simmering volcano, she produces a steady stream of energy that holds your attention in anticipation of a catastrophic eruption that thankfully, never materializes. Her vocal quality has in my view, an analog in the violin playing of Mischa Elman or the singing of Mario Lanza (with a sex change, of course). For the uninitiated, it may seem easy to do, but I assure you, what Donna did with "The Winner Takes it All" is technically and dramatically, a very precarious and extremely difficult thing to pull off. Instead of singing the whole song, she talks for portions of it and then, with impeccable pitch, picks up the notes of the melody. This gave the piece a much more authentic and believable effect in that she was essentially crying the song. I have never seen such risks taken in that way in live theater, and I am in awe of her for taking such chances (considering how perfect it was, I suspect she just may be a better singer than even I give her credit for).

With humble, awe-struck adulation,



Timothy Winey

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Mamma Mia Review

Do not try this at home

This review, like many consumer products, comes with a patronizing safety warning for the foolhardy. Serious injury or even death could result from attempting to emulate Lucy Harris. In fact, I have a challenge to issue. If those pathetic post-pubescent morons of "Jackass" fame want to truly humiliate themselves, instead of tumbling down hills in outhouses, they should try to sing or act with 1 thousandth the aplomb shown by the trio of Lucy Harris, Suanne Braun and Joanna Monro during Wednesday's performance. The sheer volume of vocal, dramatic and comic elements the three "dynamos" crammed into the November 29th performance of Mamma Mia seemed to have distorted space-time itself.

Indeed, I had the feeling of a strange kind of time compression mirage, where the absolute best elements of all previous performances were cut and spliced, and hence, compressed together. The amount and quality of expression, both musical and dramatic, combined with the gut-splitting comic elements in Wednesday's performance were almost too much to process. I wanted to film each character separately and view the show in stages.

Lucy in particular is, in my view, so innately talented, that she is incapable of being self-conscious about it. Couch potatoes are not naturally as impressed by monkeys, as they are by Olympic gymnasts; despite the superiority of primate skills over those of even the most skilled of humans, we naturally don't give monkeys the proper credit for doing something they were "born," not "trained," to do. So if Lucy will forgive the primate analogy, I think it is a fair one. Put simply, Lucy is "naturally" so good; one's expectations are automatically raised to a level that would be unfair to mere humans. So while I apologize once again for the simian reference, I assert that Lucy is, metaphorically, a "different animal." That being said, I understand that Wednesdays can be a little slow and as such, sometimes the audiences are "bussed in" in bulk; in the case of the night in question, the geriatric ward of a local hospital must have been evacuated, making for some interesting audience participation, or lack thereof.

There was awkward laughter at the wrong times, such as the peculiar laughing at the use of dry ice; loud questioning, and even louder answers, by and between those obviously hearing impaired. In the finale, one woman, who was 90 if she was a day, was gyrating to Waterloo in a way that convinced me she was having a seizure. I know that many eyes will glaze over when I start with classical music analogies, but I simply must make this one. Bronislaw Huberman (1882-1947) was the most individual violinist ever to record. My violin teacher asked Huberman's wife after a concert, why he sometimes played brilliantly and other times so poorly? She confided in my teacher that Her husband suffered from terrible insomnia. The extreme characterization of his interpretations brought Huberman great fame particularly in Central Europe, but also the label of maverick. His admirers included Brahms, Dvorak, Joachim, Furtw ngler, and Toscanini.

Today, in an age of standardization, his playing constantly challenges our expectations. I kept searching my brain for the kind of highly individualistic yet non-idiosyncratic phrasing that Lucy reminded me of, and it struck me like a thunderbolt during "Money, Money, Money" -- Huberman. If the Huberman analogy is too obscure, I also see many parallels between the naturalistic singing of Lucy Harris and the Portuguese singer Amalia Rodrigues; both of whom give one the feeling that they were not formally taught but rather somehow tapped into some kind of universal aesthetic law, giving them maximum flexibility of expression without sacrificing internal consistency; so even though no two pine cones are identical, the underlying laws governing the germination of seeds never generate a rectangular pinecone. Amalia put it most succinctly when she famously quipped "Fado is not meant to be sung; it simply happens." Lucy, like great Fado, doesn't sing, she too, simply "happens." This is the divine spark that every cell of Lucy's body resonates with, and this is why, no matter how much she seems to vary her performance, she never violates the limits of the very natural laws that simultaneously define, regulate and liberate her.

In short, her "improvisations" are internally consistent, so that every turn of every phrase still comes out "square" no matter how twisted it becomes between beats. I promise this is my last diversion into classical music. The great violinist Fritz Kreisler was the most profound musical genius/violinist of all time. He could memorize music during train rides and then go home and play them on his fiddle. He once had a violin in the shop and showed up to a rehearsal without it. When the conductor asked him how he planned to rehearse, Kreisler calmly said, "fear not" and proceeded to play the violin part on the piano! Kreisler was famous for warping rhythms in ways that were highly individualistic yet impossible to emulate, always landing on the "beat" (like Lucy) at the end of each measure.

I also had the feeling that the pit crew (musicians) were almost trying to act bored so that no one would discover just how much fun they have for fear they may end up donating their time instead of being paid, however little it might be. The music director is clearly a man of very high standards and genuine devotion to the highest quality of each and every performance. His attention to detail did not go unnoticed by me, and I want him to know that he is appreciated. I noticed that many of the transitions from dialogue to music were tightened up, only adding to the overall professionalism of the show.

Not even the IV league audience (intra-venous) could dampen the enthusiasm, impeccable timing and comic hilarity on the night. It was, in a word, surreal. I am not a conspiratorialist, but I find it difficult to believe that the cast was not somehow drugged with stimulants (I wouldn't put it past management). Paul Hawkyard and Joanna Monro were hilarious in "Take a Chance on Me."

Their physical timing and Paul's jacket twirling had me genuinely concerned about re-injuring my umbilical hernia. I have warmed up to Joanna in a way that has me regretting not noticing her talents more; she has excellent comic timing, a very solid voice and an ability to blend seamlessly into any scene. I feel that Suanne Braun is really the glue that has allowed the trio of Donna, Tanya and Rosie to congeal. Suanne is simply a comic thoroughbred with every muscle in her body rippling with instinctive timing. When Donna told Rosie and Tanya to not let the newly arrived ex-boyfriends see them, Tanya (Suanne) dove onto the floor and assumed a frozen position with her arms clasped over her head as if she was diving sideways, lips pursed, and eyes bulging in a stroke of sheer physical comic genius that is on a par with Don Knotts (deputy Barney Fife of Mayberry fame). James Lailey's Harry Bright was very good as the disheveled "closet" boyfriend.

If Suanne is not chosen as the main Tanya, then I wish the knuckleheads who pass her over, no ill will. I won't need to; their wounds will be self-inflicted, like a time-released poison that will have done its damage long before their ability to reverse it. In short, not even 20 Bozo clowns will be able to fill Suanne Braun's metaphorical shoes retroactively.

My message for those who are thinking of passing over Lucy, yet again, is simply this, may you and your ilk, be forced to watch, in a West End Purgatory, a never ending production of Mamma Mia, starring your mediocre and myopic leads. Lucy is Mamma Mia. If Lucy is not a Diva, then why was she showered with flowers during the curtain call? For a moment, I thought I was at La Scala? Lucy's red-faced reaction to the justifiable adulation of her public just goes to show how thankfully out of touch she is with the depth of her own talent, which only deepens the inspired nature of her unique gift. For to be self conscious, is to descend into the banal; it is Lucy's na ve, not false, humility, that symbolizes her divine spark.

Lucy Harris is a gift, not entirely of this world.

Timothy Winey

I have seen Mamma Mia twice now and both times it was exceptional. You will of course need to enjoy ABBA music as the entire show is dedicated to it with 24 ABBA songs. The story is a typical story not connected to the group at all but the way in which the story connects to the songs is remarkable.
I honestly can't think of any bad points that are unique to this production.
The ticket prices seem reasonable though not cheap with a good seat costing £50. Cheaper seats are available from roughly £35 (though I may be wrong there). The venue has recently been refurbished and is clean, bright and modern. The seats are comfortable and the light and music is rousing.
The first time I saw this show I was surprised at the comedy elements, the show being very funny with many innuendos for the adult audience.
If you like ABBA and you like to laugh then go see Mamma Mia.

Mamma Mia!, Prince Edward Theatre, London was all amazing, the songs were so clearly and amazingly sang, the outfits were all so colourful, it has something for everyone, song, laughter and kissing!!!!!!!!!!!! I advise anyone who likes Abba to definitely go, you will have an outstanding time, it is definitely worth it, so book NOW!!!!